Anything But Him
by Elie.N.P
Summary: Fred had the feeling tragedy was coming, running even, to them, to him.


**Warning: I'm not a native English speaker, be indulgent please =)**

**I hope you'll like it!**

**Elie**

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><p><span>Anything but Him<span>

In spite of what people usually thought of him, Fred was far from being a fool.

Although, he loved to make jokes, to play pranks. Albeit, to laugh was an addiction, to smile a habit, to tease his way to show his feelings. He was not a fool.

He could laugh about a serious theme only when he was certain his being serious wouldn't improve the situation. Then, once he had such a certainty, he made a fool of himself, he acted thus to entertain the others. Some people would smile at him – grateful for the entertainment – when others would scold him – how could he act so lightly when the matter was so important!

However, to be scolded or laughed at didn't matter to Fred, as long as his mission was fulfilled, as long as he had lightened the mood a little, he was satisfied.

It never did anything good to remain focused on scary problems for too long. It never helped and, often, only increased your chances not to find any solution.

Focused on the knot, you couldn't see all the threads forming it. Together they might seem impossible to undo, but one by one, you had more chances to slowly decrease its importance, the importance of your problem, and, finally, to settle it entirely.

Perhaps some threads would break, some would wear-out, the result could not satisfy you totally but yet, it'd always be better than to spend an eternity pondering on the whole knot which, with time, had generally the tendency to grow bigger and more threatening.

Fred knew it and, by acting stupid, tried to prevent such a thing from happening.

He'd been aware that the members of his family might be the broken threads but, until now, hadn't thought too much about it.

Until now, now that George had been harmed, he had been able to chase his forebodings away, for he'd had for a while the certainty that a tragedy was coming, running to them at top speed.

He glanced at George's bandaged ear before looking back through the window of their room.

Nobody would be able to stop it, nor to avoid it. None of them ran fast enough to distance it.

Besides, the tragedy had already started its work.

George had lost an ear, it could have been much more terrible, but it was enough to terrorize Fred who was taking it worse than George, although it wasn't his own flesh, he couldn't bear his twin being hurt.

He couldn't live without George, his other half, his soul-mate – nothing incestuous here – his best friend. Without him, life would have no colour, no savour. A dull torment Fred would never be able to endure.

He hoped that, for once, George's thoughts weren't the same as his. If he were the one to die, he wanted his brother to keep living, even though _he_ wouldn't be able to do so, Fred wished his brother would be strong enough to overcome the pain their separation would bring.

Do not misunderstand, Fred had no desire to die, however it didn't prevent him from having the feeling that the tragedy would concern one of them. There might have been too much happiness, too many smiles in their life already. Fate might have sold out its stock of pleasures for them.

Now might be their time to experience sadder things, such as war – they were in the middle of one after all – and death.

Fred shuddered. He had the feeling his family would be directly touched by the tragedy, but who would be its victim?

Ron and Ginny couldn't die, they belonged to the bright side of the story, the former as the hero's best friend, the latter as the hero's girlfriend. They could definitely not leave the scene.

Percy... could go to hell, but not now, not like that. There was no reason, once again it was only a feeling. Percy had to apologize for his acts and to do so, he had to stay alive.

Bill, as a newly-married man, and in spite of the huge dramatic dimension such a status would add to his death, wasn't ready to leave this world yet. His share of happiness had just begun, it couldn't abruptly stop there.

Charlie wouldn't die, he didn't deserve such a fate, it was as simple as that. Fred knew his older brother wouldn't be a victim of the war, he had no explanation but, once again a strong feeling.

His parents... no it was also impossible. When you were so kind and devoted to your kin and friends, a war couldn't be your end. Life could be unfair, but not to such a ridiculous extent.

Then, it appeared they were the only ones left. The tragedy would concern them, the twins.

Fred hoped he'd be its victim. It had nothing to do with the want of being a hero dead on the battlefield, or to be mourned, to be regretted, and so on. No, to put it simply, if George died, there'd be no twin any more, no one left, because Fred wouldn't live without his brother, he'd follow him.

No twins, Fred and George both lost forever for their family, that would be a too important blow for their kin to bear, that was something which couldn't happen, which Fred couldn't even imagine.

To be as alike as two peas in a pod didn't mean they were totally identical – well, perhaps from head to toes – but once you knew them better, you understood that in spite of their physical appearance, they were two different individuals, two human beings who had their own feelings, reactions and psychologies.

George'd be able to think of others, not only of himself, when Fred would be selfish.

He glanced again to his brother. George had fallen asleep a long time ago, as exhausted as he'd been, Fred knew it was safe to talk, for his brother wouldn't wake up because of a small noise.

"You'll live George," he whispered, a lump in his throat. "you'll take care of them, won't you?"

He got up from his seat by the window and slid under the covers, close to his brother. They had started to sleep together again, something George saw with amusement, Fred with dread.

If they were going back to how they used to be, didn't it mean the end was close? Didn't it mean they had to make the most of life when they still could?

Fred moved closer to his twin, taking his hand in his. It could be one of their last peaceful times together, he wanted to fix the feeling of their linked hands in his mind, to be able to remember it when his end would come.

His end. Of course, he would be the one chosen by the tragedy, why had he doubted? He was the more foolish, the selfish one, he'd die because a war couldn't go smoothly on the hero's side. There had to be victims on their side too, in the Weasley family, his feeling told him so, like it told him he'd be the one, the chosen one.

A bitter smile stretched his lips as he thought 'Sorry Harry, I think I might steal your role.'

As long as his twin was spared, as long as the rest of his family would live, then Fred was ready to accept whatever Fate had in store for him. Whatever. To live would be his favourite option, but if he had a date with Death, then so be it.

He tightly squeezed George's hand. As long as _he_ was alive, Fred would face anything.

The End


End file.
